


(i don't believe in) fairytales

by LtTanyaBoone



Series: welcome to the Modern AU [2]
Category: Pan Am
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Femslash February
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 14:56:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3414923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LtTanyaBoone/pseuds/LtTanyaBoone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Her head is swimming but that doesn’t stop Colette from downing another shot and making a face."</p>
            </blockquote>





	(i don't believe in) fairytales

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a line from "Wonderland" by Natalia Kills.

Her head is swimming but that doesn’t stop Colette from downing another shot and making a face. She’s long forgotten the name of the liquor. Not that she cared in the first place, she just wanted to get drunk fast.

It’s one thing, being dumped. It happened a few times before, she’s used to it by now. And it’s not like she never did the dumping herself, or deserved it when it happened. Usually, her partners have really good reasons to end things. She’s not around enough, not ready to get settled, flirts with other people, is too loud, too quiet, the list seems sheer endless.

What is new is that she was dumped by someone she is working with. Not just that, oh no. No, in her absolute lack of brain cells, she had to go and start sleeping with her best friend. Who on earth does things like that? Stupid people, that’s who. People who want to wreck a perfectly great friendship, people who don’t think for five seconds, people who are stupid and crazy and fall in love with-

The alcohol doesn’t even burn her throat any more as Colette downs another shot. She can feel Bridget hovering, two seats away. She told her she wanted to be left alone. Bridget still insisted on coming along. To her credit, she has not once spoken to Colette since they got to the bar. And maybe it was a good thing she came along, because Colette’s pretty sure she reached the point where walking will have turned into a rather graceless stumbling.

“I think you’ve had enough,” the British woman finally cuts in when Colette raises her hand to order another drink. She scoots over to sit next to Colette and orders them both a water instead, making the French woman pull a face.

“Go away, Bridget,” she slurs after she manages to find the words. English gets so hard when she’s drunk. She could just switch to French, Bridget would understand…

“Yes, you definitely had enough,” the older woman sighs, watching Colette. Who rolls her eyes and then rests her head in her hands, raking her fingers through her hair.

“I’m so stupid,” she groans, tugging on the ends of her blonde hair and causing herself to flinch.

“No, you’re not.”

Bridget’s voice is soft, full of sympathy. Colette narrows her eyes at her, waiting for the punch line. Bridget’s usually the first one to tell her when she messed up. Loudly and in no uncertain words. The British stewardess is one for honesty, not tact, and its a quality that took some getting used to, but now Colette almost admires her for it.

“Well, I must be, to think that this would end in any other way than me getting blackout drunk at some stupid bar,” she argues, making a face at her water and asking for another shot. The bartender gives Bridget a questioning look, and the Brit gives in, motioning for him to go ahead.

“You’re in love. When people are in love, they do stupid things.”

“Like propose on a tarmac after almost crashing a plane into the ocean?”

Bridget’s face grows expressionless as Colette clenches her eyes shut.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“I don’t want to talk about Dean,” she informs her, her voice icy. Add that to the growing number of items on the list of reasons why Colette feels like banging her head against the bar. Give herself a taste of the hangover she’s about to experience next morning.

“I’m a mean drunk. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just… Why did she break up with me?” Colette asks, furiously blinking her eyes and emptying the glass again. Maybe she can blame the moisture in them on the drink. If it weren’t already number… oh well, they are probably nearing double digits by now.

“Because…” Bridget shrugs, frowning at the distinct buzzing coming from her purse. She confiscated Colette’s phone earlier and when she swipes her thumb over the display without informing Colette whose call she rejected, the French woman can figure it out herself.

“Tell her to go to hell,” she murmurs. “Or even better, why don’t you make a video, that way she has something to hang onto and gloat about.”

Her British friend is quiet as she stares at Colette’s phone and she reaches out, trying to take it.

“I let you prevent me from calling her and saying something I’d regret; that doesn’t mean you get to read my messages.”

“Colette…” Bridget mumbles, turning her phone so Colette can see the display. There are seventeen missed calls, which is impressive. More impressive is that ten of them aren’t from Kate, but Laura.

 _“Incroyable,”_ Colette shakes her head, tossing the phone onto the bar, where it rests briefly before it begins buzzing again. She grabs it quickly and answers, a storm of French leaving her, telling Kate to go screw herself, to leave her alone, that she has what she wanted and now Colette wants her to just fuck off, is that so hard to understand?

There’s silence on the line, before there’s a sniffle.

 _“Colette, this is Laura,”_ Laura finally replies, making Colette groan loudly. Of course. Why on earth did she think Kate would have the guts to call her?

“I don’t want to talk to you, either,” Colette shakes her head, moving to hang up when Laura calls out.

_“Please, I understand, but… are you at a party?”_

“It’s a bar,” the French stewardess shrugs, turning the empty shot glass in front of her around.

_“Can you hand me to Bridget, please?”_

“How do you know she’s here?”

 _“Because you don’t get drunk by yourself,”_ Laura answers and Colette gives another shrug, holding out the phone to Bridget. Who hops off the barstool and disappears outside to talk. When she returns, her wallet is in her hands.

“I need you to listen to me, and listen carefully,” she tells Colette, who rolls her eyes.

“I don’t care what she said, Kate can still go to-”

“You don’t want to say that out loud,” Bridget quickly interrupts her and draws a deep breath. “Laura called from the hospital. Their father had a heart attack. It’s not looking good.”

Kate loves her father. Despite everything that happened, despite him not defending her against Judith and her rants and how he didn’t speak up about the way that his wife treated Colette during the one dinner she had with Kate’s parents, Kate still absolutely adores her father. She worshipped the ground he walked on as a child; hell, she still calls him _“Daddy”_.

“I, I’m drunk,” Colette stammers, staring at Bridget with wide eyes. She is, she is drunk, and Kate’s father is in the hospital, and they have just broken up, and he may not survive, and Kate’s mother will probably be there, and Colette is _drunk_.

“I will drive you, if you wanna go,” the British woman offers and all Colette can do is blink and stare. She wants to, wants to go be there for Kate. Kate is her best friend, she would never ever dream of abandoning her in a moment like this. But nine hours ago, Kate turned from Colette’s best friend to her ex-lover. She broke her heart, after Colette had made a complete fool out of herself, and then she went to go and drown her sorrows. The last thing Colette would want if the roles were reversed, would be a drunk ex showing up at the hospital.

“And if you don’t, I will drop you off at home. Either way, I’m going to the hospital, so-”

“I’m coming with you,” Colette shakes her head, hopping from the barstool. Thankfully, Bridget is close enough to steady her. Maybe they should ask for a bucket to take along, because Colette isn’t sure if being in the car for over an hour is such a great idea when the bar is already spinning.

“We’re grabbing some coffee on the way,” Bridget decides as they step and stumble into the cool night air. Colette only nods and lets her tug her along to the car, wondering what on earth she is going to do at the hospital if Kate doesn’t want her there.

* * *

Her head feels like it’s twice its original size as Colette wakes up. Her neck is stiff from sleeping in one of the orange hospital chairs, her head back against the wall. She lets out a soft groan and rolls her shoulders, carefully shifting her legs before she stands.

The walls of the hospital hallway are deserted. The hands on the clock that lulled her to sleep earlier now read a quarter past six. When exactly she passed out, Colette doesn’t remember. It was after midnight, that much she knows. Midnight was when they finally moved Kate’s father to the OR.

“Coffee?”

Laura’s voice makes her jump and the movement causes Colette to flinch before she turns around and accepts the paper cup.

 _“Merci,”_ she mutters, taking a sip of the steaming liquid. It’s bad, really bad coffee, though she hopes it will wake her up a little. She feels sober now, at least.

“Where are-”

“They moved Daddy to the ICU, Mother and Kate are with him. I needed a break,” Laura sighs, sitting down in the orange plastic chairs. Colette hesitates before doing the same, eyes glued to the black liquid in her cup. She hasn’t spoken to Laura since the phone call. They hugged when Bridget and her arrived, but Bridget took over Laura, and Colette attempted to console Kate. Which was weird, because she wasn’t entirely sure how many of Kate’s tears were because of her father and how many because of what had transpired between them earlier in the day.

“Kate came to me. After she, talked to you. She was crying, sobbing, actually…” Laura trails off and Colette can feel her eyes on her, watching the French woman.

“I don’t want to meddle-”

“Then don’t,” Colette shakes her head, giving the younger woman a pointed look. “This is between your sister and me.”

“It’s just, I don’t think she meant it-”

“Laura, stop it,” she interrupts her, closing her eyes. “Kate was pretty clear about what she meant when we talked.”

“But I’ve seen the two of you together. The way she looks at you, she’s never looked at anyone like that. Kate loves you-”

“There you are.”

Kate’s eyes are red and there are tear stains on her cheeks. She looks like she hasn’t slept in days. Her outfit is still the same she came to see Colette in, though her skirt is rumpled now and there are creases in her blouse.

“Mother needs babysitting, would you…” the redhead turns to her sister. Laura swallows and looks at Colette briefly before she nods. On her way down the hall, she passes her sister and squeezes her shoulder before the sound of her heels on the linoleum floor grow distant.

Colette frowns down at the cup in her hands before emptying it and standing to throw it away. She’s suddenly restless, feels an urge to walk around, to pace, to run a few miles.

“Thank you.”

Her voice is soft and when Colette forces herself to look at Kate, she finds the other woman giving her a grateful smile.

“How is he?”

“Stable,” the redhead nods, running a hand over her face. “For now. They’re avoiding any promises, it’s still not certain if he makes it… Colette, I don’t want to talk about my father.”

The French woman purses her lips before she nods, grabbing her purse.

“Then I guess I should go.”

Her knees feels weak as she forces herself to walk towards Kate. The redhead has crossed her arms tightly in front of her and is staring at her shoes as she shifts uncomfortably.

“Please don’t,” she whispers when Colette passes her, making the blonde woman pause and clench her eyes shut. She should go. She should leave, call herself a cab and go home and wallow. Not stay at the hospital with her ex-whatever. It’s not healthy, absolutely not. She’s always been one for clean breaks, but this time, it doesn’t seem like it’s a possibility.

“I was scared,” Kate continues, turning to face her as Colette keeps staring down the hallway. She’s not going to look at her. She doesn’t owe Kate anything, doesn’t even owe it to her to listen to any justification that the redhead may have to break her heart.

“Scared and stupid and… I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“But you did,” Colette whispers, slowly facing her former best friend. She can feel the tears starting to burn in her eyes again. “And I am tired of it. You always do this, Kate, you chicken out, you change your mind, and I, I can’t do this any more.”

“I love you.”

Colette feels her eyes widen as her heart skips a beat before it starts racing in her chest. Kate lets out a self-deprecating laugh and shakes her head as she paces a few steps.

“I watched you sleep and I thought how beautiful you are and how lucky I was to have fallen in love with my best friend, that I got to love someone like you. And the thought, it terrified me,” she shrugs, holding her arms out at her sides, tears burning in her eyes. “I have never felt like this, for anyone. And all my previous relationships were disasters, and I, I thought, what if this ends just like them? I wouldn’t be able to survive that, I wouldn’t be able to stand losing my best friend and the love of my life at the same time, and I thought, maybe, if I ended it now, maybe it wouldn’t be too late to save our friendship.”

Kate lets out a sniffle and wipes at the tears on her cheeks.

“It was stupid, I was such an idiot…” she trails off, watching Colette. Who hesitates before she slowly swallows and shakes her head.

“I can’t. I, I can’t do this any more. I… I need to go,” she stammers, turning around and walking briskly along the hospital corridor, hoping that she will make it outside before she breaks out into tears.

* * *

“I told you to get back to First.”

“Everything okay?” Colette asks as she steps behind the curtain and pulls it shut behind her. Martin’s glowering at Kate again, and the redhead crosses her arms defiantly.

“And I said I wanted to switch,” Kate argues and Colette doesn’t miss how she keeps avoiding looking at her. It’s the third flight since they broke up and Kate and Laura returned to work, and Colette is almost sorry for the small reprieve she had to be over. It was easier when they weren’t stuck with each other at 35,000 feet, easier when they had a place to flee to when they didn’t feel like seeing each other.

“I’m the purser on this flight and I put you in First Class, now go do your job.”

Kate opens her mouth, hesitating briefly before she shakes her head.

“Unbelievable,” she hisses before stepping back into the cabin, yanking on the curtain. Colette would ignore it, but this is not the first time she’s seen Kate and Martin almost at each other’s throats the past flights.

“If you want her to report you for hazing keep acting like this,” she tells her friend, earning herself a sarcastic laugh.

“To do that she’d have to find a way to prove I’m abusing my power,” he reminds her with a grin. “I put her in First Class, how is that hazing?”

“Are you doing this for me?” Colette asks him outright, a sigh leaving her when Martin shrugs. “Because if you are, please, stop.”

“Colette, she’s-”

“A colleague who deserves to be treated with respect,” she interrupts him quickly. “Whatever happened between Kate and me, I am thankful you’re not putting us into the same class. Truly, I am. But please stop trying to protect me by being a jerk to her. It’s not helping.”

With that, Colette grabs a fresh pot of coffee and walks down the aisle into First Class. Kate’s mixing a drink, and judging by the way she’s shaking the bottle, getting some relief for her frustration as well.

“Change of plans, you’re in Economy,” Colette walks up to her, holding out her hand for the bottle. The redhead hesitates, casting a suspicious look down the aisle.

“With Martin?” she asks, lifting an eyebrow.

“Well, it’s him or me, so take your pick,” the French stewardess shrugs, ignoring the urge to turn around and fix Laura with a glare when she can feel the other woman’s eyes on her. Kate pauses, searching Colette’s face.

“I take it you would prefer switching with me, instead of working with me?” she asks, causing Colette to swallow before she nods.

“Yes, I would prefer that.”

“Alright,” Kate nods, handing the shaker over to Colette. “Twenty A.”

With that, she leaves, walking down the aisle and pushing past her sister, leaving Laura to stare after the redhead before she turns and gives Colette a questioning look. The French woman doesn’t know what to say, so she just shrugs before she pours the drink into the glass Kate already set out and goes to serve it with a smile.

* * *

“I am so sorry!” Laura exclaims, turning around quickly. Colette lets out a sigh and gets up from the bed in time with her companion.

“No problem,” the guy attempts a smile, looking at Colette for reassurance.

“I forgot to hand my uniform to the dry cleaning, I’ll just be one sec-”

“Laura,” Colette interrupts the younger woman, shaking her head in amusement. “You may actually find your uniform if you uncover your eyes.”

“Right,” the American nods, slowly lowering her hand. Colette doesn’t miss how her eyes widen at the sight of her companion, but she doesn’t say anything.

“I should get going,” he mutters, running a hand through his dishevelled hair.

“Let me walk you out,” Colette offers, grabbing his jacket and her own to get away from her ex-girlfriend’s sister. She didn’t exactly plan on this. But Tim was nice, a passenger on their flight who flirted relentlessly with her. She enjoyed his attention; for the first time since Kate and her broke up, Colette felt like actually going out with someone. They’d made dinner plans, but when he showed up at her door to pick her up, they had forgotten about the food and instead started making out. Which had been… weird. Nice, but weird. Colette hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the last time she’d slept with someone, someone who definitely hadn’t been a guy, and the truth was, part of her had wanted to go back in time, or at least replace Tim. She had been searching for a way to let him down gently when Laura had shown up, providing her with an excellent excuse.

“I guess we’re not gonna have dinner, after all,” Tim sighed as they walked down the hotel hallway.

“I’m sorry,” Colette apologized. “I know it sounds like a stupid line, but it’s not you, it’s me. I’ve just, gotten out of a relationship, and I thought I was ready for something else, but… I don’t think I am, not yet. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he shrugs, moving his hand through his dark hair. “I’m not trying to be pushy, but, how about breakfast instead? Tomorrow? No strings attached,” he adds when Colette starts shaking her head.

“I would just be leading you on. I’m sorry.”

“Alright,” he sighs finally, inclining his head and letting his shoulders slump forward. “You in trouble with your roommate now?”

Colette casts a look back down the hallway. She hasn’t failed to notice that Laura hasn’t come their way. Either she hasn’t found her uniform yet, or wants to make sure that Colette and her companion are well out of her way. Or maybe she came upstairs for another reason altogether.

“Nothing a sincere apology and a week in Economy won’t fix,” she shakes her head, turning to face him again. “I had a nice time.”

“Me, too,” he nods, leaning in to brush his lips over hers again. “Au revoir, Colette.”

She watches him press the button for the elevators before turning and heading back to their room, bracing herself for an outburst. Laura can be particular when it comes to men in their room, and Colette does feel sorry about not having cleared it with her first. Maybe two weeks in Economy might seem better, considering…

“Have you seen my blouse?” Laura asks as Colette enters the room, which looks a great deal messier than it had been when she’d left a few minutes ago.

“You hung it up in the bathroom to get the wrinkles out,” the French stewardess reminds her, sending the blonde American running next door and letting out a triumphant yell. When she comes back, she pauses in the doorway, watching Colette.

“Are you going out again?” she asks, her tone carefully neutral. The blonde woman considers lying but figures it too much of a hassle.

“No. And he won’t be coming back,” she answers truthfully, taking off her shoes as she flopps down on the bed. Laura’s white teeth flash as she worries at her lip, hesitating.

“Say it. Before you choke on it,” Colette encourages her, running a hand through her hair.

“I don’t really know where to begin,” the younger woman mutters, allowing her arms to fall to her sides, uniform blouse a wrinkled mess of fabric on one of her hands.

“I’ve always been honest about being attracted to men and women.”

“It’s not that,” Laura shakes her head, sinking down on her own bed. Colette watches her furrow her brows, staring at her feet.

“If this is about Kate-”

“No. Well, yes. Kind of,” the younger stewardess sighs before finally shaking her head again. “I’m trying to keep out of your business, really, but when stuff like this happens, it kind of makes it hard. I feel like I’d be lying to her, if I don’t tell her…”

“I don’t owe her an explanation or need to ask her permission before I start seeing anyone,” Colette reminds the other woman, anger slowly rising in her. “Kate was the one who broke up with me, that she changed her mind is not my problem-”

“I know, I- I didn’t mean it like that. I just feel, trapped. Between you two. Like I should be choosing a side and sticking with it, but she’s my sister and you’re my friend, and… I don’t think you’re all that happy right now.”

Colette blinks in surprise and suddenly feels tears well up in her eyes. She quickly shakes her head and grabs her shoes to put them on again, fumbling around.

“Colette-”

“I’ve changed my mind,” the French woman mutters, grabbing her purse. “I’m going out, don’t wait up.”

She barely makes it out of the room before the first tear rolls down her cheek.

* * *

“Are you okay?”

Kate’s knuckles have turned white as she’s clutching the rim of the sink, her head down. Colette can hear her ragged breaths and grabs a few paper towels. She wets them and slowly reaches out to hold them against Kate’s neck, making the redhead flinch and tense before the tension slowly starts going out of her. Kate reaches up, her hand briefly covering Colette’s before the French stewardess pulls her hand back. She leans against the row of sinks, watching her ex-girlfriend as she draws a deep breath and straightens, a sniffle coming from her.

They’re in the airport restroom. There are ninety minutes before their flight and they should be boarding the plane and starting to check that everything is ready for the passengers. But when they went over the manifest in the lounge, Kate suddenly paled and excused herself, leaving everyone else to stare after her. Bridget wasn’t in the mood to go after her, after her most recent spat with Dean, and Martin couldn’t and Laura had sighed before getting up and suddenly, Colette hadn’t wanted the blonde American to go after her sister. Whatever was wrong with Kate, she was pretty sure that Laura didn’t know any more than she did, and what was more, Colette was certain that Kate wouldn’t want to talk to her sister about whatever had upset her.

“The guy in 11C,” Kate starts, clenching her eyes shut before she gives a rough shake of her head.

Colette’s brows furrow as she tries to remember the name on the manifest. She’s good, but not that good.

“You know him?” she asks stupidly. Of course Kate knows him, otherwise she wouldn’t be reacting like this, and Colette wonders who on earth might have managed to illicit such a strong response from the other woman.

Kate nods, swallowing before she shakes her head again.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Colette offers, reaching out to run her hand up and down Kate’s arm in an attempt to comfort her. “I’ll talk to Bridget, make sure we’re both in Economy. You won’t have to deal with him, I promise.”

The redhead takes a slow breath, watching Colette.

“I haven’t even told you what happened between us.”

“You don’t have to,” Colette shrugs. “Unless you want to, of course. But I know you, enough to know that whatever it was, it was bad, so if you don’t feel like you can deal with him… I’ve got your back.”

Much to her surprise, Kate’s mouth twitches into the hint of a smile before she inclines her head. Her hand finds Colette’s and she squeezes it gently.

“Thank you,” she mutters before letting go. Kate checks her reflection in the mirror and turns on the water to wash her hands. Colette sees them shake but chooses not to comment on it, instead holding out a few dry paper towels to the other woman to dry herself off. They haven’t been in the same section of the plane more than a handful of times since their break-up, usually with one of them covering two sections and the time they’re exposed to each other limited. But unlike before, the thought of spending hours in Kate’s proximity doesn’t fill Colette with dread any more.

* * *

Her mind is buzzing with a hundred different questions but when Colette leans back from the kiss and opens her mouth, there’s only a vortex of confusion and no words.

Kate watches her, eyes wide and breathing shallow before she swallows thickly. The music from the living room is echoing down the hall and Colette can’t concentrate, can’t remember why she went down the hall in the first place, why she stepped into Kate’s room when she found the door open, why she steps back to said door and closes it now and turns the lock before facing Kate again, her heart hammering away in her chest.

She hasn’t slept with Kate in over a year, hasn’t kissed her in the same amount of time. But when she kisses her again, everything comes rushing back. Kate’s lips are so familiar and Colette reaches out to pull the other woman closer, a moan escaping her when Kate’s hips jerk against hers.

They shouldn’t be doing this. Kate broke up with her and Colette swore she wouldn’t go back, and what is more, there’s a party down the hall. Laura’s birthday party to be precise. Someone is bound to notice the two of them have disappeared, someone is bound to come looking for Kate and then they’re going to find her door locked and this is going to end in a complete nightmare, but Colette can’t stop herself. She missed her, she missed Kate so much, missed kissing her and falling asleep with her arms around her hips and waking up next to her. She missed their banter and companionship and they’ve barely managed to glue the friendship they once shared back together. It’s not going to survive another break-up, just like Colette’s heart, but the blonde pushes that thought away quickly. She doesn’t care about the consequences of this, because she has been longing for it for so long she finds when her hands slip the material of Kate’s dress down her shoulders and the fabric pools at the redhead’s feet before Kate pulls her along and over to the bed.

It shouldn’t be so easy going back to this, but Colette’s body is eager to respond to Kate’s touch and she finds herself biting her lip in an effort to keep herself from moaning out loud. It used to be like this before, when they were together Colette always felt the world slip away and narrow down until there was only room for Kate, until she was all Colette could think of. It’s strangely comforting that despite the many things that have changed, this one hasn’t. Kate still kisses her like she’s drowning, she still moves against her in a way that makes Colette see stars, she still whispers her name like it’s a prayer and she’s desperate for absolution. Colette still remembers the different responses of Kate’s body to her touches, remembers what makes Kate arch her back and jerk her hips, what makes the breath catch in her throat and her nails dig into Colette’s skin.

She remembers the smell of the laundry detergent as she turns her face into the pillow, her body boneless and heavy. Kate’s fingertips are tracing a path up and down her spine and Colette feels her skin break into goosebumps and shivers before Kate stops and presses a gentle kiss to her shoulder blade.

The music is still drifting through the walls. If they got up now and got dressed, maybe no one will notice. But Colette can’t make herself move. She wants to stay here, wants to stay in Kate’s bed, with her. She’s tired and wants to close her eyes and go to sleep.

Kate doesn’t say anything. Colette feels her shift and then the comforter settles over her slick skin. Kate turns around, her back to Colette. When the French woman opens her eyes, she sees the red traces her fingernails left behind on the pale skin. Kate’s breathing stops briefly when she traces one of the trails and the redhead tenses when Colette wraps her arm around her waist and pulls her back against her, her forehead resting against Kate’s neck, the scent of her shampoo and perfume filling Colette’s brain.

In the morning, the red trails have disappeared from Kate’s skin. Colette finds a hickey on her left collarbone and there is one on Kate’s hip and four crescent-shaped bruises on Colette’s. When she looks for her second shoe, she finds a picture of Kate and her under the redhead’s bed. It’s taped to a box and she knows she shouldn’t do it, but when Kate comes back from the bathroom, Colette is sitting on her bed, the box open on her thighs. Inside are various mementos from the months they were dating. Letters and pictures and concert tickets and a flight manifest and postcards from hotels with room numbers scribbled on the backs. There’s a folded picture of the two of them in uniform in front of Trevi fountain and Colette knows that it was taken the day they shared their first kiss. There’s also a tiny snowglobe with the Eiffel Tower in it. Colette has one of the same size with the Statue of Liberty. It sat on her bedside table because a photograph had been out of the question at the start of their relationship. When Kate broke up with her, Colette banished it into the drawer but she never had the strength to throw it out.

“Laura’s still sleeping,” Kate’s voice pulls Colette from her thoughts. She blinks and looks at the redhead in confusion. “I don’t think she noticed anything last night, so if you want to leave, right now seems like the perfect opportunity.”

Colette’s eyes dart back to the snowglobe, the flakes twirling around after she shakes it. She puts it back in the box and set that down on the bed, carefully replacing the lid before she gets up.

“Come on,” she murmurs, grabbing Kate’s hand and pulling her with her in the direction of the kitchen, “I’m hungry, let’s have some breakfast.”

Kate squeezes her hand so hard it’s almost painful and they stumble around the kitchen, trying to get everything without letting go of each other.

* * *

The sun reflects off the golden ring on her finger as Colette watches Kate push back her wet hair and shake her head. Amanda is clapping her hands and shrieking with laughter from the side of the pool as her aunt wipes the water off her face. Colette gets up from the deck chair and picks up the little girl, smiling down at the redhead. Kate makes an effort to look pissed but her face is breaking out in a grin.

Joe and Laura left two hours ago. They’ll be back in a week. In the meantime, Kate and Colette are going to watch their daughter and the house. Which has a nice pool, something that makes the heat of summer tolerable.

“How’d you manage that?” Colette asks the girl, who’s still giggling.

“She caught me by surprise,” Kate supplies as she climbs out of the pool, dripping wet. “Sneaky girl.”

“Kate,” Colette warns the redhead as she advances with a menacing look and Amanda hides her face in Colette’s shoulder, clutching at her shirt. Kate shrugs and goes in for a kiss instead, prompting the three year old to yell “Yuck!” at them and drawing a laugh from Colette.

“When’d you wanna get started on dinner?” Kate asks, checking her watch and thankful that it’s waterproof and survived the surprise bath.

“We should probably get out of the sun anyway, so we can start it now,” Colette shrugs, setting Amanda down and watching the girl take off in the direction of the house.

“Hey,” Kate catches her attention, holding Colette back from going after the girl.

“What?” Colette asks, her brows furrowing in confusion.

“Happy anniversary,” Kate grins, pulling her in for another kiss and tugging on her necklace where a matching wedding band is dangling. She needs to get it resized; her hand feels naked without it but Colette didn’t want to risk losing it in case it slipped off her finger without her noticing.

“Happy anniversary,” Colette murmurs against her lips before letting go.

“Aunnie Kate!” Amanda is yelling from the porch and Kate rolls her eyes.

“What?” she shouts back, ignoring Colette’s attempt to tell her to keep it down.

“I have to go potty!”

“Oh shoot,” Kate curses, hurrying to open the door for her niece and leaving Colette to shake her head in amusement as she goes to follow them.

_fin_


End file.
